Smolder
by Battle On
Summary: With a little help any lost soul can be found, but the person must first be willing to try. Will Justin be able to put his trust in Brian?AU
1. Decompose

**Author's Note:** I wasn't sure I was going to post this fic. The idea came to me while waking up one morning and I wanted to make sure it was well written as possible before I would even consider letting it be seen by others. I am in the midst of finishing up writing (literally on paper) chapter two, but unfortunately that doesn't mean its garunteed I will be updating anytime soon, becuase I tend to be pretty lazy when it comes to typing. I do have the basic outline of this fic planned out and am excited to see it through. I hope you enjoy and please leave reviews ^^.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Queer as Folk am merely borrowing the boys for a little while.

_Decompose_**: **Decay into nothingness

_Prologue_

_The dim lighting due to the darkened clouds in the sky brought forth a depressing atmosphere for many of the inhabitants of Pittsburg on what may have been its coldest day on record. The cold wind pierced even the warmest of jackets of those few brave souls who wandered the streets that afternoon. One lone figure seemed adverse to the cold effects as the wind picked up speed and began a heavy onslaught. He wore naught but a thin light jacket, jeans that looked a size or two too big and he had shoes riddled with holes. To anyone whom may have gotten close enough to see, his complexion was deathly pale and bottom lip had split from the cold. His whole body shook as he carried on, but his face showed no indication of effects the cold brought on._

_His mind began to wander, as it often did, and he thought of what colors he would use for a painting of such a day like this, or if the children from his drawings last summer would return this summer. Things that at one time, what now seemed many lifetimes ago, would have brought him joy, but now instead acted as a simple passing of time._

_As time slowly ticked by and the day made its way towards end the figure found shelter under a bridge in a park he frequented often. Pushing up as close to the wall as he could the figure folded into himself not for warmth, but for protection from any who might stumble upon him. He had learned that valuable lesson some time before and it was one he had never forgotten. With but a sigh passing his lips the figure stared out into the night waiting…_

I cannot remember when exactly my ability to feel stopped. I am not even quite sure how long it has been since I last saw the place I called home. Home, it is one of those words people tend to use loosely, like the words 'love' or 'happy'. Home is something, just a word, people have stereotyped as a pleasant place to be, but pleasant was never a word that came to mind in my memory of the place. Home is a place for families, but the people in my 'home' surely could not of been considered **my** family. Family would imply 'happy' when paired together with the word 'home'. It is then assumed that the 'family' in the 'home' are 'happy' and thus 'love' each other and that leaves no reason for people, outsiders, to see anything more or look any deeper at the 'family'.

I then, lived in a house, for house is a word that does not hold the same connotation as home. In comparison the word house seems colder, less personal. I lived with people, not family, because while blood may have genetically related use to one another we were not happy and did not love one another. I lived in a house with people. To my knowledge I have never known happy or family and I have never had a home, but if you were to ask the neighbors of that house they would have told you otherwise.

Time has become irrelevant; I have long since stopped seeking out warmth, in any sense of the word. To say I have stopped feeling completely would not be complete truth. I remember, what seems like ages ago now, when I had first found myself on the streets, that I constantly searched out warmth. Warmth from the cold, warmth of other people. When I had lived in the house, at the very least the people were familiar and while we did not get along, and most of the time I wished nothing more to be as far away from them as possible, I could rely on the fact that they were there and did not seem to be going anywhere. I learned quickly, the hard way, there were no such assurances here. The life I have become accustomed to is not pretty. In fact, even now, after however much time may have passed, there is still a part of me that is ashamed of who I am and what I have become, though recently I have noticed that even that feeling of shame has begun to fade.

I find that I spend most of my days wondering different areas of the city. Through experience I have learned which areas are safer than others, although safe is a relative term. In the winter I do not travel far from Liberty Ave. though, weather can have a drastic affect on people's behavior. At nights I sell my body and after I sleep in one of my regular spots if I am even able to sleep that night at all. The actual act of sex for money is just that, all it is is a job. A job that gives me the ability to make it through life. The way I look at it is that I keep regular hours, rates and have never let another man fuck me raw. I even make sure I get tested regularly, though I have no real explanation for why I try to keep myself safe or why I even still care, it just feels like something important, like it has been ingrained in my head over and over.

It is a day like any other. The sun has come back out, but judging from how others have dressed the temperature must not be much warmer than before. The sun's return, though, has brought back the normal hustle and bustle of the day. I woke from under the bridge to a vehicle's obnoxious horn blaring into the pre-dawn filled minutes of yet another morning. By my best estimations I slept for a little over two and a half hours. The edginess of being awoken so abruptly has yet to leave me. In the hours I have been awake I have found myself, on several different occasions, unconsciously pressing my hands to my pockets and other various parts of my body, checking that I still have what few possessions I have managed to keep with me.

I was paid way more than usual two nights ago. The trick was nervous, too nervous, and came from my barely fondling his balls, through his pants I might add. He insisted on giving me a blow job, but between his jittery movements and mumbling on about his wife and kids at home it felt like forever before I finally came. His droning on and on about his family was more likely to make me sick than anything else, so, while not safe in this line of work, I tuned him out. In the end everything seemed to have worked out, I made three-hundred, up front of course, and he got his hour as a homo before he returned home to his picket fenced homo hating suburbia. I typically don't take but one or two clients every few nights or so and with what this particular trick had been willing to fork over I could be set for a while, granted it is not stolen off me.

Thus bringing me back to my current predicament; separated and located on several different places on my body was nearly all of the money I had received from the other night, I had hardly used any of it yesterday. It made me uneasy to have so much on me and I had become hyperaware of the few people around me in the park. I often come to the park in the early morning when I am staying near Liberty Ave. I like being able to gaze up at the stars some nights and the colors of dawn and dusk are intriguing even still. Before, in my other life I would have used all the different hues I saw to express myself in a way the others in the house never understood. Glancing up I notice the sun has started to rise over the tops of building in the distance and slowly I begin my trek towards the infamous street.

In the time I have been living on the streets I have not stepped foot into Liberty Diner. I have though, back when I first started out on the streets, rummaged through it's dumpsters. An unfortunate side effect of growing up WASP is that I have not been able to go into establishments unless dire necessity dictates my doing so. The longer I gaze at the colorful building the more I feel hunger clawing its way into the forefront of my mind. I reluctantly begin to pull myself away from the bright and lively colored building as I mull over my appearance and glance up to study my reflection as I pass a store's large window. My hair has grown long; its originally blonde color has now been dulled, though I suspect it is in slightly better condition considering I managed about a ten minute cold shower maybe 5 or so days ago. My light jacket is worn down and has a small tear in the area of the right wrist and its grey color black in a few spots. What little I can see of my shirt, from the zipper opening of the jacket, is the relatively the same blue color it was when I purchased it from a little second hand shop a few weeks back. My gaze begins to travel back upwards, only allowing a quick glance at my ill fitting jeans and torn shoes. Finally, my gaze rests on my face and I unconsciously bring a hand up to rub at a spot of dirt on my cheek. My complexion has taken on a deathly pale look, the bags under my eyes only add to my death warmed over appearance.

It is my eyes that haunt me the most though. While staring intently into their now almost grey color, I feel but for a fleeting second, a stab of pain. Pain from anger, pain from anguish, pain from agonized and pristine defeat, but most of all pain from wanting to be loved. As soon as the crippling feeling had come forth, it was gone and I found myself turning to walk away. I want to run, escape, and get away from it all. Momentarily I am frozen in place and that's when a voice breaks through my barrier of panic, standing out above all the other early morning noises. I feel control of my body returning to me and I begin to run away wanting far away from this place and the commotion around. My shoes decide at that moment to give out and I am soon tumbling to the ground. The soft thud and momentary pain from my body making contact with concrete brings back the panic to escape, but I realize it is too late, because the voice is drawing ever closer.

He told me his name is Emmett and despite how many time I have tried to dissuade him from his tirade of apologies, I honestly feared it may have never ended. After helping me get back on my feet the tirade began and nearly fifteen minutes later it was still continuing at a fairly regular rate. Emmett had brought my inside the store he worked at and whose window I had found myself staring intently into while studying myself. Torso, being the name of the store, was filled with a wide variety of clothing in many different colors and designs. I must admit the glitter and sparkle of the store unnerved me some. Not but a minute after the thought had crossed my mind Emmett seemed to have noticed my attire and instantly began flitting around the store grabbing articles here and there before thrusting half of a fairly large pile into my own arms and guiding me back into a changing room.

This brings me to now, stripping off my clothes to try on new ones, showing them to Emmett and allowing him to gush over his choices. I have begun to noticeably tire though, his personality is quite draining, along with the taking on and off of clothes. My eyes have become heavy and my limbs are beginning to feel as though they are filled with lead. Trying as quickly as possible to get my own clothes back on I stumble as my legs give out and for a second feel but a fleeting moment of pain.

Brian's POV

Rubbing my forehead gently in an attempt to abate the oncoming headache I sigh heavily and get out of my car as I begin my walk into the hospital to find Theodore and Emmett. It would seem that while working today one of Emmett's customers had passed out on him while trying on some clothes. Emmett, blaming himself for God knows why, had managed to convince the paramedics into a ride to the hospital with said stranger. Of course, today would be the day that Theodore's car is in the shop and Cynthia is home with the flu, leaving me with the responsibility of getting Theodore to the hospital and to Emmett's rescue. I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath before passing through the doors that open into the emergency room. Spotting Theodore comforting Emmett in one of the far corners I make my way there and lean against the wall while waiting until Theodore gives the signal that we can leave. I close my eyes briefly and block out the noise from the general hustle and bustle of the E.R. Feeling a tap on my shoulder I turn and look at Theodore who then points at a doctor talking to Emmett a few paces away. Emmett is on the verge of spilling more tears as he turns and looks at me for help and I sigh as I go over to find out what is wrong.

It appears that hospital was more worried about getting paid than caring for some gay street kid, or at least that's the condensed version of the story the doctor gave me. Which only led to fueling my frustration over this situation to anger, I assured the doctor I would pay and followed a nurse to quickly fill out some paper work over the matter. Upon returning I was latched on to by Emmett before he began to pull me down the hall and through a door in which I nearly fell from the abruptness of my own stop. My eyes became transfixed on a pale blonde sleeping on a hospital bed in the middle of the room. I immediately become confused by my actions, seeing as the kid was not even close to being my type, but of one thing I am sure, the little drama princess resting in the sterile hospital was wrapping us all around his little finger, without even being awake.


	2. Waste

**Author's Note:**Here it is. I am not sure how I feel about this chapter over all, especially Brian's POV and the dialogue and typing it up was a very daunting task.

**Disclaimer:** See first chapter.

_Waste_: to destroy or consume gradually; wear away

My eyelids feel heavy and I find are difficult to open. I can feel slight warmth on the left side of my body. I struggle to fight off the feeling of fatigue and to become more alert. I clench my hands at my sides and suppress a whimper when I pick up my arm to bring my right hand to my face. Gently rubbing my eyes I begin to adjust to the disturbing amount of sunlight flooding into the sterile room. A groan escapes my lips as I come to the realization that I must be in a hospital. While my eyes finish adjusting to the light a headache begins to pound away at my skull as bits and pieces of things I must of heard while I was out of it comes floating to the surface.

_"Hang in there sweetie, you'll be just fine soon…just hang on…" _Came the voice I distinctly familiarize with the sales clerk from the store I was in, Emmett, the one who wouldn't stop apologizing for spooking me. I can make out other sounds, the blaring of a siren and clashing of metal against concrete. Worried rushed tones then followed by loud belligerent ones. There are several other repeating voices I do not recognize as it all begins to blend together. I press my right hand roughly against my forehead willing it all away when one voice begins to stand out above the rest of the clatter.

_"Honeycutt be more careful…Just let him sleep, I'm sure he would appreciate it if you would give him his arm back…Forget this I'm leaving…"_

Then silence.

A silence more deafening than all the noises before combined. It was unsettling and almost made me wish for the chaos of the noise back. Whimpers pass my lips and the struggle for control becomes a losing one. With as rapt movement I can manage I discard the sheets from the bed and while leaning heavily against my right arm I swing my legs off the bed and proceed to slip off the side and collapse on the floor.

I knew I hadn't been on the floor for more than a few minutes, logically, but my perception of time was much slower than average. Nausea settled heavily in my stomach and the brief relief from the pounding headache was over. I cannot honestly remember a time ever feeling this helpless and my mind screamed for escape. My mind was in absolute turmoil as I began to attempt to stand. On shaky legs I make my way to the door and grip the handle tightly whilst pulling it open, peeking my head out and checking the down the left and right of the hall. I notice that down on the left side there sits a nurse's station, unoccupied. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly I start making my way down the hall towards the right. Keeping as close to the wall as possible I having notice a sign indicating a staircase. Not far from the end of the hall another broke off to my left. I hear a faint ding of the elevator, but paid it no attention, making my way past and see the door to the stairwell growing near. I steady myself, taking another deep breath, before reaching out for the door's handle. My hand nearly makes it when I feel a hand rest on my shoulder and everything I had tuned out came rushing back into my ears. My body tenses at the touch and I begin to tremble as I force my body to turn and come face to face with the owner of the voice from before.

Brian's POV

Sleep evaded me last night; my thoughts kept drifting back to Emmett's blonde street kid. The hospital had located an old school I.D., from two years ago, naming the kid Justin Taylor at an approximate age of 18-20 years old. His clothes were well worn and after having searched them for any other personal effects I had asked the hospital staff to put them into a bag for the kid to decide what to do with them later. Using the sizes indicated on the clothes and adjusting them some by the rough judging of his size I made a call for a new set of clothes to be delivered to his room by this morning.

I left last night when I couldn't stand Emmett's fawning over the kid any longer. I almost felt for the kid knowing without a doubt that Debbie will have heard of Emmett's ordeal and will be rushing to the kid's side sometime this morning to fawn like Emmett had.

I find myself once again parked in the Hospital's parking lot and I slowly exit the Corvette and walk in the building towards the elevator that I know will bring my closest to the kid's room. Stepping off the elevator I bring my gaze up mentally preparing myself for walking into the kid's room when a flash of blonde catches my eye as it disappears around the corner and down the hallway. Picking up my pace I round the corner just in time to see the kid, Justin, taking a steadying breath and reaching out for the door handle to the stairs. Moving more quickly than even I had realized I grabbed for his shoulder and bite out his name. Feeling him tense under my hand I gather my patience and wait as his fear filled eyes turn towards me.

"Justin," I state with as much calm as I can muster. "Where are you going?"

While I briefly reflect on the seeming stupidity of the question I just uttered Justin began to withdraw into himself having only a brief second of recognition of me. Turning, I lead him back towards his room, my hand never leaving his shoulder. A quick glance at the empty nurse's station brings hints of anger to my mind, but I push it aside to deal with later, the quivering boy before me was of more importance at the moment. I guide him through the doorway and towards his plain and sterile looking bed. Gently I release him from my grasp and watch as the kid walks over and climbs back into his bed, still in a daze like state. Pulling over the sheets till all but his head was covered by him then leaning back and staring wild eyed at the ceiling.

Sighing, I pull the door silently shut behind me and walk over to the room's solitary window. I begin working on collecting my thoughts, I know I must keep myself as calm as possible around Justin. _Wait. For what reason exactly do I care?_ With a gentle shake of my head I take what I thought was only a few moments to collect and calm myself, I turn to the clock and see that nearly thirty-five minutes have passed. Bringing my head down towards the **kid's** bed his eyes ensnare my own. I know I should look away, but I cannot. The color of his eyes seems dulled, subdued, like the life in them had left long ago. They hold within them pain that rivaled any I had seen before, even in my own all those years ago. I continue to keep his gaze until I notice the slow tensing of his body. He blinks, breaking the connection, and I gradually make my way over to his bed. Standing beside him I make one last glance over, assuring myself that he is fine, physically at least.

"I wouldn't recommend trying to run again, I'm sure Auntie Em will be here soon to look after you, most likely along with one or two others." I utter leaving the room.

Justin's POV

A distinct feeling of doom had settled over me when I turned around and was able to put a face to the ever haunting voice. He is beyond description in physical appearance, making him seem god like, but there is undoubtedly more there. When our eyes met I looked past the captivating hazel of his eyes and found way more behind them. At first he seemed almost completely my opposite, but there were things that he had learned to hide well, just around the edges. The complexity admittedly scares me quite a deal and I felt the tension return to my body preparing for escape. I feel my eyes flutter close and back open again, breaking our connection. He moves towards my bed, stopping when he reaches its side. He informs me whom I assume is Emmett will be arriving sometime soon and there is a probability he may bring others. Oh and not to attempt escape again. Then he leaves and after hearing the door click shut I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

It was gone now, leaving with him. My chest constricts with unimaginable pain and I roll to my side, back now facing the door, upset by my abandonment. I wanted it back; though to be honest I am not even sure it has a name or if I could adequately describe it. I just know I hurt when it left, he took it with him and I don't know his name. What if he doesn't come back?

A nurse came in to check on me about nine and brought with her some clothes that had been delivered for me to leave in tomorrow. I am definitely ready to leave here, but I'm worried about how I am going to pay for all of this. The nurse informed me I was brought in after collapsing in a store. I am being treated for exhaustion, malnutrition, and the early stages of a cold. Tomorrow I will be released into the care of my friends and will need to be carefully watched for a week or so to make sure I am eating and sleeping properly and keeping up with the meds they are giving me for the cold, in hopes of nipping it in the bud before it progresses any farther.

I have spent the last three hours trying to figure out who might these 'friends' be when a loud and boisterous Emmett enters my room followed by a louder and more exuberant woman.

"Good afternoon, baby!" He exclaims rushing to my bed side and taking hold of my hand. "You don't know how relieved I am to see your lovely eyes staring back at me again."

He sighs, pats my hand and moves two chairs, one to each side of the bed. Emmett then gesture to the woman arranging flowers in a vase on my night stand to have a seat in one of the chairs around my bed. With each of them sitting the woman begins speaking to the both of us, I can't make out what they are saying though. My body is once again caught in fears embrace. The two of them have surrounded me, cornered me to this one solitary spot on the bed. Have I always been this afraid of people? I can't recall having ever having a particular problem like this being around tricks. A familiar unsettling feeling washes over me and I begin to feel exhausted. I close my eyes in hopes of feigning sleep well enough that my two visitors will leave. Thankfully, after a bit of time passes and Emmett has been assured by the woman that I am merely sleeping they both leave and I give into the exhaustion.

Brian's POV

I stopped back in again a little after one to check up on the kid, but he was sleeping. I noticed the chairs in his room had been moved and inquired about it at the nurses' station when I went over to ask if his clothes had been delivered. I had decided to let my anger from earlier go at their lack of paying attention. Life would move along a lot smoother without having a handful of potentially pissed off nurses', the kid was leaving tomorrow anyway. My inquiry brought me two important answers. Yes, his clothing I had ordered had arrived and had been stored under his bed for safe keeping, and Emmett and Deb had been by. When leaving they had informed a nurse that the kid had fallen asleep about thirty minutes into their visit and that he hadn't spoken the entire visit. I found myself at home not long after that, a definite advantage of being the boss of your own company. It wasn't like I was having a particularly productive day at any rate.

I'm about to meet the boys for another wonderful evening at Woody's followed by a sexually appetizing night at Babylon. Normally the excitement of the oncoming hunt at Babylon would have sufficed me, but tonight my thoughts seem to be jumbled.

I slept better last night, but still not quite back to the restful peace I have become accustomed to passing out with exhaustion each night. I plan on spending a few hours in the office before going to pick up the kid in the afternoon. I also want to clear my calendar for the next few days, with the exception of two campaigns. One I need to present and the other I need to brainstorm. Arriving at Kinnetic, I filled Cynthia in on what I wanted done in my absence and what had gone on in hers.

After feeling everything had been taken care of and planned out for the next few days I noticed that it was nearly noon. I set the notes I needed for the new campaign in the passenger seat of my Jeep. I opted to take the Jeep over the Corvette today not wanting to worry about getting the kid and all of his stuff to fit, plus the Jeep is safer in the snow. I park my Jeep as close to the entrance of the hospital as I can and feel relieved that this is the last time I will need to park here for what I hope is never, or at least a long long while. Walking out of the familiar elevator and down the hall to the kid's room I make quick notice that there are nurses at the nurses' station when I hear Debbie's voice carrying out of the kid's room. I quicken my pace and open the door to see Debbie holding one of Justin's arms in what I assume is an attempt to get him out of his bed.

"C'mon Sunshine, we need to get you dressed so I can get you home and all settled before my shift." Debbie explains pulling lightly on Justin's arm. I could tell he was terrified and I wanted nothing more than to gather him in my arms and protect him, even if it was from Deb.

"Debbie release him your scaring him." I command in the calmest voice I can manage. I walk over to the bed catching Justin's gaze and holding it. Not even turning to see who had entered the room behind me.

"Brian, what do you mean? I need to get Sunshine back to the house. I have a shift this evening."

"I don't think you understand Deb, but since I have been paying for Sunshine's stay I will be the one taking him home for his further recovery." I answer working my way between her and Justin, taking her hand from his arm and gently rubbing it.

"Brian you couldn't possib…"

"Debbie I think Brian should take Sunshine home. Come on, let's leave the two alone so Brian can get everything in order and they can leave." I recognize as Emmett's voice interrupting.

"Well Sunshine's an adult, let's let him choose." Debbie huffs.

I sigh and nod at Justin still holding his gaze, his eyes widen and he looks past me for a moment before looking back at me. "I want to go with him." He whispers bringing a hand up to his nose and sniffling. I hear the two leave knowing they heard Justin loud and clear and give him a quick smile before getting up and gathering his new clothes from under his bed.

"You go and get changed into these, while I collect the rest of your stuff. Has the doctor already been in to see you?"

He nods, moves off his bed and heads into the restroom reappearing about ten minutes later. I take quick note that the jeans are a bit big on him, but the rest seems to fit just right.

"Justin, do you want to take these flowers with us?" He shakes his head vigorously in response and I walk over to him holding out my hand. He takes it, giving me a thankful smile and we head out of his room. As we pass the nurses' station I make sure that he has indeed been discharged and we head out into the cold making our way as quickly and safely to the Jeep as possible.

Once on the road he begins going through his things pulling out what I would assume is several wads of cash from different articles of his old clothing. He seems to find it all or at least doesn't show his disappointment if any of it is missing. The ride gives me time to stop and wander for the first time today if I am doing the right thing or what I am even doing to begin with. I could have simply allowed him to go with Debbie. I know he would have been well taken care of and I wasn't worried about the money. Parking the Jeep I move to get out of the vehicle and walk around to the passenger's side and am surprised to find not only find him already out of the vehicle but holding all of his things **and** holding out his hand filled with money, head down.

I reach up and rub the bridge of my nose and then reach my hand out towards his, but instead of taking the money I lightly grab his wrist and pulling him into the building with me.

"Save your money." Is all I say on the subject and he simply stuffs it into a pocket on his jacket.

I pull out my keys as the lift reaches the top floor and unlock the door to loft. I usher him inside and pull the door shut the unmistakable metal clang ensuring our finally being alone and home.


	3. Refuge Part 1

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone heres part one of chapter 3. I decided to split the chapter becuase I felt it may get too long. I hadnt expected the chapter to be so long or involved. I hope this chapter doesnt scare you away, I promise I do have a plan for where things are headed. Enjoy and review~

**Disclaimer:** See first chapter.

Refuge: a place of shelter, protection, or safety

I am brought to consciousness, my breathing erratic and heart racing. I sit up abruptly and try to calm myself as the chaos of my thoughts drowns out reality. I had been in the grasp of a nightmare filled with familiarity, but now only that feeling remained. As I calmed I started thinking back, trying to remember, but stopped, deciding it may be better just not knowing at this moment, or ever. Hearing shuffling behind me I turn my body around quickly to see the outline of a figure making its way towards me. Stepping out into the light filtering in from the moon, Brian looks at me, questions in his eyes. I drop my gaze and look away, ashamed, and bring my knees up to my chest, hiding my head between my legs and my chest.

I feel the couch dip near me, but Brian makes no move or attempt at touching me. We sat there, for an undetermined amount of time, until my breathing evened out and my thoughts were sorted for the time being. Taking a deep breath, releasing it and taking another I am shocked to realize that a tiredness is seeping back into my mind and body. Before, if I had awakened in the night, I never seemed I never seemed to be able to fall back asleep. _Did I always have nightmares before? Were they the reason for my loss of sleep?_ I had become readily accustomed to such few hours of sleep while on the streets. Brian must have noticed the change and had risen to stand in front of me, holding out his hand for mine, head turned away. Grateful, I put my hand in his briefly enjoying the strength and warmth of being connected provided. I allowed him to pull me to my feet and admired his patience, giving the early hour, as we make our way towards the bed at a sluggish pace. Lying down in the space he provides for me I lay with my back towards him. Finding a comfortable spot I close my eyes and wait for exhaustion to take over.

Just as the feeling swept over me pain erupted in my chest, taking my breath away. My body becomes rigid and I feel moisture pooling at my eyes. Instinctively, I know the pain isn't physical, but that knowledge brings me no peace of mind. Part of the pain is fear. _What happens to me now? Will I be able to live back on the streets; survive? _Part of the pain is anger. _Who did my father think he was to condemn me to this life?_ Part of the pain is anguish. _How did I end up alone? Why can't I be loved? Is there something wrong with me?_ The pain was many other things, in a way it was everything that is me, but these were the parts of most importance.

Arms wrap around me and roll me over, locking me in a warm, secure embrace. Brian doesn't say a word, but I know that he hasn't succumbed to sleep, so I fret over the fact that I'm keeping him awake. He knows though.

"Sleep twat. Leave your musings for when the sun is shining."

The pain doesn't go away. Not completely, but it subsides just enough when he is holding me.

Brian had vacated the loft by the time I had awakened on a cloudy the Tuesday morning. Pulling the duvet off my body and sitting up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I could physically feel the loss of his presence in the loft. Meandering out of the bed to relieve myself I make note of a paper lying on his pillow. Making my way back out to the bed I pick up the paper to observe Brian's scrawl informing me I was welcome to a shower and that I was to order myself some food, there was money left by the menus. The note finished with saying that he had gone into work, but should be home by lunch. Apparently my stomach agrees to the comment about food as it starts growling from its mere mention. I glance around the room in search of a clock, seeing none I wander out of the bedroom heading towards his designated 'office' area.

My first impression of his home nearly had me in jaw dropping awe. The furniture was obviously expensive and well beyond the means of anyone I had ever met before. It was the subtleties that made me feel Brian's presence in the vast space though. I hadn't allowed myself to show how impressed I was of his loft, as many before me I was sure had. From how the sun filtered into the space I could assume it was late morning or early noon, which I confirmed from the clock on his desk, it was 10:54am. Figuring it would be best to shower and wait Brian before ordering lunch I made my way back to up the steps, through the bedroom and into the shower, locating extra towels in a cabinet.

Having already turned on the water and let it warm when I step under the spray a cross between a sigh and a moan passes my lips. The water feels amazing on my skin and I am so grateful to be able to take warm showers again. Using his soap I clean every bit of my body while reveling in its scent. As I am finishing I hear a noise outside the bathroom. I freeze and turn around so that I am facing the bathroom's doorway. Reaching back and shutting the shower off I strain to hear who it may be, I know I haven't been in the shower long enough for it to be noon or even close to it yet. Opening the stall door and drying off as quietly as possible I keep alert noticing the shuffling around is keeping mostly to the other side of the loft. I glance around the bathroom and spot a robe; I slip it on take a deep breath and walk out of the bathroom to face whoever it may be.

Brian's POV

As quiet as the kid is he hadn't lost his touch when it came to being stubborn. After bringing him home about midday yesterday and he made home on my couch and dozed there the rest of the day. He shouldn't be that quiet. It's unnerving. I ordered some Chinese, keeping it simple with some rice, noodles and a simple meat. When it arrived I plated some for both of us and originally had set his plate at the table with mine. He wouldn't have any of it though, after 10 frustrating minutes of trying to convince him to come and eat with me I gave up and ate my dinner in silence alone at the table. When I was done I moved to my desk and reviewed my presentation for this morning. At some point while I was lost in my work the kid had gotten off the couch, eaten and cleaned both out plates, before returning to his spot on the couch.

I noticed by then that it was just after 10 and spent a few minutes weighing my options on how to proceed with my evening. My options were either calling up Mikey and going out with the boys or calling it an early night. On any other night my decision would have been obvious, but tonight I decided to head for bed. Bringing the kid home had messed up my schedule some and admittedly I was a bit tired. Preparing for bed I provided the kid with a pillow and blanket seeing as it didn't seem he was moving again anytime soon. Sometime in the night I awoke to a muffled cry. Alarmed I got up to check on Justin finding him upset from a nightmare. I sat with him, it didn't feel right to do anything more; I understood his needing space, but not wanting to feel alone.

Allowing him time to work through his thoughts I found myself wandering a couple of times just what in the hell I thought I was doing, but decided it was too late, or early, to be bothered by. When he had gathered himself I brought him back to the bed and this time he didn't fight me. As we settled into sleep I surprised myself by pulling him to me, calling him a twat and telling him to sleep, but decided not to dwell on it and sleep myself, him in my embrace.

Awaking this morning I eased myself out of bed as to not wake him and got to work with plenty time to review my presentation yet again. I couldn't believe I was letting my company take on a campaign that focused on tampons. I had caught both Theodore and Cynthia snickering several times in the planning session for this account. I almost wished we weren't going to receive as much as we were for the account, because honestly I was willing to drop it in a heartbeat. The worst part was selling the campaign, there was of course no doubt I could do it, but this could seriously ruin my reputation. I feel like I am turning more and more into a dyke with each passing moment between the kid and these dammed tampons.

Leaving Kinnetic a little after 11:30 I make my way back to the loft. When the lift reaches the top floor I immediately notice that the door to the loft is slightly a jar. A panic sets through me. _Is Justin alright? Did he leave? Has someone broken into the loft?_ A panic which instantly turns into pure rage. Justin was openly sobbing in the middle of the loft, on the ground half pulled up by his arm. Mikey is on the other end of said arm pulling him into that position.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing!" I hiss closing in on the two. Justin's sobs quiet as he watches me with fear filled eyes.

"Do you know what he was doing?" Mikey demands. "This brat was in your shower using your expensive soaps and your robe. Just making himself at home like he belongs here or something."

I stare incredulously at Michael for a moment before prying his hold from Justin's arm. I pick Justin up off the floor; this is a bit difficult as Justin has gone nearly stiff and while small isn't exactly light. I give Michael a look that tells him he best stay quiet and wait right where he is for my return.

Carrying Justin up the steps and into the bathroom I set him down on the counter and move my hands up and down his back in a calming motion.

"Justin, I need you to let go so I can clean you up and make sure your okay, alright?" I look him directly in the eyes and try to portray as well as I can that I am not going to harm him. He looks away for a moment before looking back and reading my expression. Slowly he relaxes, but I continue my ministrations until he nods his head to let me know I have permission to check him over. Gently lifting his battered arm I see the bruising is already starting to show, in the shape of a hand on his upper arm. Suppressing the boiling rage I give the rest of him a quick check, looking over his other arm, legs face and neck ,areas I can see without removing the robe, then extend my hand to lead him to the bed. He will be sore for a couple of day undoubtedly.

Passing by the opening for the steps I can see that Mikey has fled so I change our course for the couch.

"Have you eaten yet Justin?" Just as the words leave my mouth his stomach growls and I can't help but chuckle. Its official, I've turned into a lesbian.


	4. Refuge Part 2

**Authors Note:** Part 2 as promised. The chapter flowed easier for me than I expected. I hope you enjoy ^^.

**Disclaimer:** See first chapter.

Brian's POV

If I am not careful the kid is going to eat me out of house and home. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to resist at first, but his stomach won out in the end. I suspect he was on the streets for a while before running into Em, but I do not think anyone could convince me this big of an appietite is healthy. After the incident with Michael, Justin withdrew in on himself quite a bit, but watching him eat I noticed a spark of life of him come back. It would figure that he is the type of person that finds a deep enjoyment in food. He won't look at me while he eats which is another tidbit of information I tuck away, but the fact that he is letting me eat with him is enough for now. Finishing my bit of lunch I get up from the couch, wash my plate and cup in the sink and put them up to dry.

I want to get a head start on the next campaign, because not only do I need to but it will give me something to do. I don't want to leave Justin alone though, in any state. He is watching me now, like he knows I am thinking about him. _What a fucking lesbionic way to think._

"Justin, I need to work thinking up an idea for a new campaign. I work in advertising, own my own agency." I explain in answer to his questioning eyes.

His eyes widen, in shock or disbelief. He stands up and comes closer looking at me as though he is asking 'Really?'. Really what, though. Something else I'll have to tuck away for later, but he seems interested. Smirking, I know I am going to use this to my advantage.

"So, could you do me a favor?"

Justin nodded his head enthusiastically and followed me as I went over to my desk to grab my notes. We both sat on the couch, Justin sitting completely sideways with his feet on the couch and knees brought up to his chest, while I sit mostly forward, but turned slightly towards him. I began with giving him as much background information on the company as I could. Explaining what products the company wanted to highlight and what advantages or disadvantages they had from and advertising point of view. He watched me with eager eyes, absorbing all the information I throw at him, nodding in agreement in some places and shaking his head at other places. Each time he shook his head I would take a minute to contemplate what I had just said and work it another way, gaining his approval. I had never needed approval with my work and I still don't, but gaining his made a difference on how I felt about working this campaign in general.

The longer this went on the more I wanted to get my ideas on paper for the art department. Leading Justin over to the dining room table I drew the basic outline for one of the ads that we, or I should say, I had been discussing for several minutes. When I was finished I pushed it in front of him. He stared intently at the paper for a while then he reached his hands out towards the extra paper and my pencil. I pushed them closer to him and watched as he got to work.

Moving to my desk I continued to keep my eye on him, watching as he studiously worked the lead into the paper. Every once and a while the bare tip of his tongue would dart out into view. Having filled my quota of lesbionic thoughts for the day I wouldn't let myself think it was cute. Nope, not cute at all. The spark in his eyes that I had seen earlier when he ate was back, but brighter this time. It didn't take a genius to figure out the kid was an artist at heart.

When he finished I sensed his hesitation as he looked over the paper, sneaking glances at me. How could anyone let such a bright and diligent boy, man actually, become like this? A great injustice had been done to the world when whatever travesties had been bestowed on Justin taking away his art and his light.

Justin moves from his spot at the dining room table and makes his way towards me completely lacking any confidence. The light all but leaving his eyes. The closer he gets to me the more he begins to drag his feet, as if that little extra time it provided him could be the difference between life and death. I suppose in his mind it could truly be that way. It has been said that true artists put their souls into all their pieces, after what Justin had been through, even though I am still not quite sure what that is, one could only assume how much soul he had left to put into his drawing clutched delicately between his fingers. Finally reaching me he looks down at his masterpiece one last time before thrusting it out towards me to take, head down and body trembling.

The moment the paper has been securely transferred to my hands Justin makes his way back to the couch. A place, which in his very limited time here, has been deemed as his.

Justin's POV

I have no clue what got into me. Brian started bouncing ideas off of me, an interesting interaction in its own right, but before I realized it there a pencil in my one hand and paper beneath the fingertips of my other. After the first mark had been made I couldn't stop; more importantly I didn't want to. I cannot recall the last time I created anything. At first, while on the streets, there hadn't been time. Then no resources. By the time I had time to give my art any thought it had been too long, too much time was left, art no longer had a place in my life.

The arm his friend had dragged me with still ached some, actually quite a bit of me still ached. I can still hear every word he said reverberating in my mind. Was that man really Brian's best friend? He was convinced Brian would pick him over me that I was the one who didn't belong, but I never said I belonged, Brian asked me to stay

Listening to Brian talk to patiently about the campaign brought a piece of me back to life. Something that I had had to burry deep even before being kicked out of my parent's home. Brian made everything he said sound interesting, I loved the sound of his voice. Giving him my sketch of his idea made something in me want to die though. _What if he doesn't like it? Will he kick me out too?_ Tears started to collect at my eyes. I didn't fight them, just let them fall. What was the point? Brian's friend had said that Brian would kick me out first chance he got. Would my sketch give him that chance? Curling up on the couch I silently cried myself to sleep.

Brian's POV

His sketch is brilliant, far better than anything my art department has ever sent me. Not that the art department had ever sent me anything too terrible, but nothing in comparison to what Justin has produced. I finish up my work for the evening placing Justin's sketch at the top of the file and shut down my laptop. It is a little after nine and Justin has been quiet for quite a while. We've both missed dinner and if lunch was any indication of how Justin could eat on a regular basis, then I better wake him up and feed him. Moving over to where he is sitting on the couch I see he is sleeping, dried tear tracks on his cheeks. I close my eyes, push the feelings that want to well up inside me back down and reach down to nudge his shoulder. His eyes flutter open, fear filled for a moment, before he focuses on me and gives me a small smile.

"We missed dinner Justin. Go pick something out for us while I grab a quick shower, then I'll order for us."

He nods and stretches to get up as I make my way through the bedroom and into the bathroom. I make my shower a quick one, not really needing a long one and also not wanting to keep Justin waiting too long. Drying myself off I wrap the towel around my waist and head out towards the couch where Justin is holding a Thai menu in his hands. He points out what he wants, which I mentally double, and I head to the phone to place our order before returning to the couch and sitting next to Justin.

"I'm going to go out tonight, after we have our dinner. I want to find Michael and talk to him about what he did to you and possibly have a few drinks at Woody's, the bar. Would you like to go or stay here?" I ask looking him directly in the eyes.

Inwardly I am quite pleased when he keeps me gaze and then motions to the couch indicating his wanting to stay here.

"Okay, I'll only be gone for a couple of hours."

The food arrives not long after and, after I changed into some going out clothes, we sit in a comfortable silence at the dining room table. When I finish I clear my spot, give Justin a kiss on the forehead and leave the loft, locking the door and setting the alarm. _Wait, kissed him where? Ah shit._

I arrive at Woody's at about 10:30 and immediately spot 'the boys' gathered around the bar. Striding up to Michael's side I take his arm and drag him back out the bar, Theodore and Emmett not far behind. Reaching a quiet area I turn around and face him.

"Why did you leave earlier? What the fuck were you doing in my loft to begin with anyway? What right did you have to go in my home and hurt my guest?" I demand looking Michael down.

"Hold on Brian, what you mean…" Emmett begins.

"Brian I think you should…" Theodore starts, stopping when I glare at him.

"Shut up you two," I growl. "I believe I was speaking to Michael. So tell me Michael what the fuck did you think you were doing?"

"Bri…Brian.." Michael stutters. "Why are you defending that whore?" He quips regaining his demeanor. "He was using your shit like he belonged. You've gotten rid of him already right?"

"Oh sweet Jesus, do not tell me Michael that you hurt that poor baby boy." Emmett states coming closer to me.

"Not you too Em, how could you like that little hustler?"

"Michael Novotny you better not let your mother hear say something like that about that boy."

I smirk, it would seem my job here was nearly done.

"Listen here Michael, because I will only warn you one time. You are not to enter my home for no reason again. If you even consider hurting Justin again, in any way…well let's just say you don't want me to choose. I would think my best friend would act better than this."

Michael calls after me a few times as I walk away, but I can hear Emmett demanding answers. It is good to know Justin has someone like Emmett on his side.

Now to find a decent trick…

Justin's POV

Brian's lips touched my forehead…


	5. Freeze

**A/N:** I have added to the end of this chapter. It will no longer be in two parts.

Freeze: to lose warmth of feeling; be stunned or chilled with fear

I can't recall anyone ever kissing me before. Not on the lips or forehead by my mother, or the cheek by a friend. Not that I ever had a friend to bestow a kiss upon me. I did not remember my life as being so bleak, but I guess when you have nothing else to compare it to you cannot judge it for what it really is. I knew there was something different about my family or later as I learned, wrong, but friends were another matter. If I wasn't at home I was at school or vice versa. I attended a private school, filled with rich snobs and a small population of shy geeks, probably the only success stories the school would see if they lived through the bullying. The art club only lasted my freshman year and without it school held absolutely nothing for me. I excelled in all my classes, scored 1500 on my SATs, but it didn't mean anything, because at the end of the day I would find myself in my room huddled up on my bed creating, the only thing that had meant anything to me then.

Brian had kissed my forehead and after he left, despite how juvenile it felt, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

Irub my eyes and take my plate and cup to the sink to clean. I tidy up the kitchen and then head up into the bedroom. I know Brian has not been gone long, but I have already tired despite how early it still is. My stomach is full, a feeling I relish in. A feeling that also makes me sleepy. I pull off me shirt and crawl into his bed. I breathe in Brian's scent, trying to push the intensifying pain back while I curl up onto the side of the bed I slept last night and close my eyes for sleep.

I stir to the feel of arms wrapping around me. I don't know what time it is, but Brian has come back. He has been home long enough to have showered, the moisture still clings to his skin. I open my eyes to his chest and turn my head to look up at him. He must feel my movement because he pulls me closer. I breathe deeply reveling in knowing that the encompassing pain is fading. I'm glad he came back.

Brian's POV

Getting my dick sucked was about as enjoyable as listening to an accountant. I decided to not even bother with trying to find a good fuck, at the rate my blowjob went there was no chance I would find a decent one. I dropped by Babylon's bar on my way out and had a couple with my good friend Jim before making my way back home. The drive was uneventful and I wondered what Justin had done in my absence.

Parking the Corvette and entering my loft I make sure to unlock and then lock the door behind me, resetting the alarm. The loft is dark and quiet, the only light source from outside coming in through the window. Curious I walk past the couch and find no sign of Justin so I continue on to the bedroom. His body not completely relaxed is curled almost into a ball on his side facing inwards towards the middle of the bed. His soft blonde hair is splayed over his face keeping his eyes from view. His shirt is discarded beside the bed and the duvet, not covering the top half of his body, allowing the green, blue and purple hues of the bruises on his arm to be seen. I sigh and shake my head, discarding my clothes for a quick shower. When done I dry myself off and walk over to the other side of the bed to crawl in, dropping my towel right before.

I get comfortable, propping myself up on my arm to watch Justin sleep. It is so hard to see Justin as a man when he looks so childlike lying here on my bed. I reach out to pull him towards me as I settle down for sleep. I must wake him as he starts to move around a bit so I pull him even closer and relax feeling some tension leave him as well.

I managed to get myself ready for work this morning without waking up Justin when I had to leave the bed. Before I left I caught glimpse of him curled up in my area of the bed, smile gracing his face. It should be illegal to look that…well…never mind._ God damn twat, I did not just think cute again. I blame him._

Presenting Justin's idea to the art department went over really well. The head of the department, Mellissa, loved the concept and told me that the sketch was perfect. I already knew that. I explained to her some about Justin, how he is staying with me and how I wanted to get him art supplies for him to mess around with during his recovery. It was like opening a flood gate, I spent the next thirty minutes listening to her list products and their uses before finally asking for a list I could reference to. To be honest it wasn't so bad listening though, I noticed a familiar spark while she was talking. Clearing with Cynthia and Theodore that I was no longer needed for today I left Kinnetic and went in search of the art store highlighted in pink, of all colors, at the top of Mellissa's suggested supply list.

Parking out front I walked into the store and at first felt a little overwhelmed. The shelves were filled to the brink with, what I could only assume is, every and any material an artist could ever possibly need. Thankful for the list I made my way through the aisles only stopping to grab a few small canvases, some paintbrushes, paints from the basics of the color spectrum, pastels, a few sketchpads and a handful of different pencils for Justin to use. Glancing over the list I was pleased with what I had found and brought it all up to the register.

I couldn't get my thoughts away from what I hoped Justin's reaction would be to his gifts. _Really? _ Parking in the garage and carrying everything up to the loft I froze on spot to the sound on the other side of my door. Dropping the bags from my hands I let myself in as fast as I could and slid the door open to find yet another Novotny terrorizing Justin. _Note to self: Have the locks changed immediately._ Justin was yet again crying, though this time I suspected more in anger and frustration, as Deb loomed over his distraught figure on the bed. Not that I don't suspect he is scared shitless, but I had learned that Justin wasn't the type of person who liked to be told what to do. Pinching the bridge of my nose I take a deep breath remembering calm was the key to a distraught Justin.

"Sunshine stop that blabbering already. I need to get you up and out of here, okay?"

"Not exactly Deb, I don't understand how that is okay. Care explaining?" I inquire making my presence known while wondering what in the hell she could be talking about. Why did she want Justin?

"Oh Brian your home, didn't hear ya come in. Me and Sunshine here will be out of your hair in just a minute. Nothing ya need to be worrying about."

"I am afraid I don't understand Deb, why would you be taking 'Sunshine' from the loft? Your upsetting his recovery." I state clearly leading Debbie away from the bedroom and towards the door.

"Now just a minute asshole, I came here to collect Sunshine and I am not leaving here without him. Michael said that…"

Shit Mikey.

"Just what exactly did your son tell you that made you come into my home when I wasn't here and try to force my guest out?"

"He told me that Sunshine was causing you to miss work and that you were hoping I'd take him of course, but that in true Kinney fashion you weren't gonna come to me and ask for help. So I've come to collect Sunshine." She says as if it completely okays her actions.

"Debbie," I state clearly angry. "Maybe you should ask **your** son what **he** was doing yesterday afternoon. And maybe **you** should come to **me** next time before trying to force a guest out of **my own home**. Though there isn't going to be a next time cause I never want to even **fucking** hear of something like this happening again. Now if you'd kindly let yourself out I have something and **someone **to attend to."

Leaving Debbie at the door I collect my bags and head up to the bedroom where Justin has hidden himself under the duvet. I set the bags at the end of the bed and seeing Debbie still standing in the doorway I close the fogged glass panels, blocking her view. I wait for a minute, then I hear the footsteps heading away and the loft door slamming shut.

I can hear Justin's suppressed sniffles as I sit down on the bed and begin to pull back the duvet. His face is red and blotchy, and his eyes are a bit puffy, from crying, but his tears have stopped. He doesn't look me in the eye and after a moment tries to cover himself up again, but I hold the duvet firmly and reach out and turn his face towards mine, his eyes avoiding me.

"Justin look at me." I say, my voice calm. I wait, knowing that if I allow him the time he will eventually look, that if I don't force him he will listen. I wait patiently for only a few minutes before Justin turns his eyes towards mine and lock our gazes. "I apologize you had to go through something like that again. I promise to try and rectify the situation soon to where I am the only one with a key to my loft. I brought you a surprise though, got it while I was out." I know my usual policy is that sorry is bullshit, it still is, but Justin should have been safe in my home and clearly wasn't.

I reach over for the bags, releasing him, and set them in front of where he is now sitting up. I relax back on the bed and watch as he shyly reaches out to inspect the bags. Rubbing his eyes with one hand his face erupts with the look of joy as he discovers the treasures before him picking up each product, examining it, and moving on the next. When he has finished he looks over at me and gives me the most amazing smile I have ever seen. A true 'sunshine' smile, Debbie's nickname for him definitely fit. He gets a mischievous look on his face and signals for me not to move. Opening a new sketchpad he begins his newest work of art. I don't know how long I was laying there, but the position was comfortable enough, because next thing I knew Justin was curled up next to me, supplies abandoned at the foot of the bed, sketchpad splayed open. I closed my eyes again and relaxed resuming our afternoon nap.

When I woke again my cell phone indicated it was just after two. We'd managed to miss a meal again. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed to stretch then headed to the closet to change, wanting to get out of the clothes I wore to the office and into something more comfortable. When done I begin to clean up Justin's supplies and fit them into a drawer in my desk. Taking a moment to study his sketch I am awed by his mastery of human form. It depicted our nap with almost picture perfect quality. Justin had managed to almost exactly replicate how he had actually curled up by me. Was it life imitating art or art imitating life?

Walking back to the bedroom I gently nudge Justin to wake him up and head back out to the kitchen to fetch,_ scratch that I mean grab_, the menus I wanted him to choose from for lunch when my phone began to ring. Groaning I answered it and listened to Theodore go on about a crisis at Kinnetic.

Shit.

Justin's POV

Brian woke me up and had left the bedroom. I wasn't quite sure if I was ready to get up yet when he hurried back into the room and told me to change saying we needed to go into the office. The urgency in his voice made me forgot any notion of staying in bed or feeling hungry. Since I didn't have any more outfits, Brian lent me some of his clothes in the smallest sizes he had, which still ended up being considerably bigger than me. I put on my new shoes and before I was completely standing a jacket appeared in front of me. I quickly put it on and followed Brian out the door, doing my best to keep up with his long strides.

Then entire trip Brian was completely somewhere else. Even as we parked and entered the building named Kinnetic, Brian paid no attention to anyone else around him trying to get up to his office as soon as possible. I didn't mind it though, I kind of like seeing Brian act so passionately towards his business again. Making it to his office I get out of the way as another man and a woman bustle about with Brian. I lay down on his couch, first taking off the jacket he had offered me and laying it over me as I waited for this crisis to be fixed. I had complete faith that Brian could solve whatever was wrong.

Brian's POV

Shit does not even begin to cover it. I love doing what I do and being the best at it, but there are time, take for instance this one, when I wander if the money is worth the stress. Theodore had called to inform me that our new campaign, the one Justin helped with, now wanted us to come to them with our presentation.

Friday. That leaves less than a week.

They had stated some shit about us having their campaign information for over a week and if we were not going to do anything with it they were going to go with someone else. Basically, they want to play the field. We all know this, but with the profit margin they are dangling in front of us, they are making it hard to refuse.

So, tomorrow morning I will be boarding a plane for Chicago instead of returning back to a normal work schedule since…

Double Shit. Justin.

Grabbing Theodore's wrist and seeing his Rolex glaring 5:37pm back at me. I pinch the bridge of my nose and push back in my seat. Justin, who was currently relying on me for food, was about to miss a second meal for today. I look past my desk for the first time in hours to spot a mass of blonde hair peeking over the edge of the couch in my office. I cannot help but chuckle at how once again a couch of mine has become his domain. Cynthia looks up from the papers she has been reading over and gives me a funny, almost knowing, look following my gaze. If I knew I could actually function without her I'd fire her in a minute, so by the time she glanced back at me I'd put my barriers back up. I dismiss myself and head over to the couch, watching Justin's soft, even breaths of sleep. I run my fingers gently through his hair and nudge his shoulder and wait a moment. His captivatingly blue eyes flutter open to meet my own. I lean over and pat his leg indicating to him my wish to sit, he scrambles haphazardly to make room. I take my place next to him and meet his gaze trying to convey an apology I would never verbally articulate. Fully awake now he flashes me one of his rare and unique sunshine smiles. I am almost compelled to smile back when his stomach decides to make itself heard, I chuckle instead.

Shaking my head I hold out my hand for his. "Let's go eat."

I don't know how it is even possible, but as his hand met mine, that damn smile of his became even brighter and there blazed a spark in his eye that could cast out any shadow.

I can't understand why anyone would cast away sunshine.


	6. Amelioration

Amelioration: an improvement

He looks like a fucking twelve year old, sitting beside me in the corvette looking disheveled. How in the fuck did I not notice this before we left the loft? My clothes, even at their smallest, hang off in all the right,_ fuck no…I mean wrong_, wrong ways. I hadn't taken him to get any actual outfits and in my rush to fix a problem at my company I hadn't considered that he would be leaving the loft in my clothes.

Glancing at the clock on the 'vette's dashboard I figure that if we eat quickly enough we have just enough time to go out and get him a few more outfits of his own before I absolutely need to be back to the loft.

I run a hand through my hair to suppress a frustrated sigh and remind myself to keep my eyes on the road. We can't go to the diner, Debbie will be there. In fact Michael will more than likely be there as well and I don't need any more problems right now. There's a little Italian place a couple of blocks from the store I think I may take Justin to. The thought helps lighten my mood a bit, take that Debbie.

Justin's POV

I don't think I will ever be able to get used to the feeling a full stomach. The restaurant Brian took us to was small and had a homey feel, but the food, that was what made the place. The food was wonderfully rich and the portions were a perfect size. I'm beginning to feel a bit tired, but Brian said he is taking me to get clothes and all but dragged me in to the store. I hope I have enough to cover the cost.

"Justin, Austin here will be getting your measurements." Brains announces, abruptly catching my attention.

Austin is looking at me warily, like I'm some lost cause, but turns around and leads me to a fitting room of sorts. I look down and follow begrudgingly, throwing a couple of glances back at Brian who is looking over shirts on a stand near the door. Austin is quick about taking my measurements, but every time his hands brush against me I have to stifle a flinch. He makes a few notes and then leaves the room. I'm unsure if I should follow or not, but right as I decide to he rushes back in with an assortment of shirts and jeans.

"If you could try these on, we will be waiting just outside." He states briskly before walking out again.

I look over the clothes and make my first selection.

I'm exhausted; I never realized clothes shopping would be that tiring. Or maybe it's just shopping with Brian. He insisted on getting ten different shirts, five short sleeve and five long sleeve, and six pairs of jeans. I must have tried on twice that. I think the only reason we stopped is because Brian took pity on me with my excessive yawning.

Brian's POV

I smirk, watching Justin fighting to keep his eyes open as we enter the elevator and head up to the loft. He starts to sway a bit until eventually he leans into me resting his head against my shoulder. The elevator stops and I wrap my hand around his shoulders to keep him upright while I open the gate.

Justin shuffle towards the raised platform, dropping the bags he was carrying along the way. I watch as he drops to his knees and proceeds to pass out on the bed. I chuckle and gather his bags of clothes and leave them at the end of the bed until they can be put away later. As I turn to join Justin on the bed I notice the peaceful smile on his face. I know it's too soon to think he is better or even cured, but I must admit, this an improvement.

**A/N:** I apologize for the long wait everyone, but after nearly two years I honestly had no plans to return to Smolder. I hated seeing it sitting there though, unfinished. This isn't the ending I envisioned for my fic, but I hope it brings a sense of closure for any of you who might have been still waiting. I have left the ending open in a way that should I ever feel the need to add on to this fic I can jump right back in with a sequel. Thank you for reading, reviewing and following.


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